Best Friends Forever
by Miss-unperfect but trying
Summary: Six best friends have everything going for them: great grades, incredible sports skills, and gorgeous looks. Their biggest talent? Keeping secrets. They lie. They cheat. They steal. They ruin each other's lives. Victorious version of Best Friends Forever by Pinky.
1. Prologue

The hospital cubical was dim, silent, and cramped. Big enough for only a bed with stiff, over-starched white hospital sheets and a tiny plastic chair, it was lit by a single hanging bulb, the only noise that could be heard was the constant beeping of several machines hooked up to a tiny wisp of a girl. She seemed to be in about her late teens, with clumps of thinning brown hair that looked as though it hadn't been washed in days. Her cheeks had the sunken, hollow look of someone who had lost a lot of weight in a short period of time, and her arms were so thin they looked as though they could be snapped in half by the lightest of touches. Her breathing was shallow, unsteady, as she stared blankly off into space, her body completely immobile, as it had been since they had rushed her to the emergency room five days prior. Finally, she spoke, for what was the first time in days. Her voice was cracked and dry, and sounded as frail as she looked.

"Mother?"

The woman in the chair sat up quickly, jerking out of her doze. "Trina?"

"Mother…" She sounded choked, her voice getting raspier. "It hurts."

Tears instantly filled the eyes of the woman who had not left her bedside since they had placed her there. Reaching over, she smoothed her daughter's hair out of her weary eyes. "I know. I know, honey. Try to sleep. The doctors are doing all they can."

"It hurts too bad to sleep."

"Do you want something, sweetheart?"

A tired, heaving sigh lifted up the girl's fragile chest. She closed her eyes momentarily. "I want you to tell me a story. Like…when I was little."

It was with motherly affection and worry that she mindlessly tucked her daughter in tighter, trying to get the creases out of the sheets and plumping up the pillows. "A story about what?"

"I don't care. Your life. My life. Someone else's life. Anything. Please?"

She winced. Every word Trina uttered seemed to take so much energy out of her; perhaps that was why she hadn't spoken in days, just to retain enough energy for these few precious words. She was so skinny. So sickly. In so much pain. Like any mother, she wanted to do anything she could to help her daughter, so without even thinking, she hurriedly began talking, paying no attention to the words, and instead focusing on her daughter's face, watching for some sign of relief, some sign that she was doing something right. "There once were six best friends. Four of them grew up together, and two came later in life. They were what most people would call, 'fortunate,' from the big trust funds their mommy's and daddy's had set up for them, and they took it all completely for granted. The six did everything together. They laughed together, cried together, attended the same boarding school together, studied together, partied and got drunk together, and sometimes…even slept together."

It was finally around that time that the mother realized exactly what she was saying. She flushed and dropped her eyes from Trina's, clearly embarrassed, but if her daughter noticed, she didn't comment. "What…what were their names?" she asked weakly, closing her eyes and reaching for her mother's hand.

A smile crossed the mother's face for a second. "There was Tori Vega. Tall, tanned, beautiful Tori. She had more grace and poise than everyone else in the world put together. People envied her for her blue-blooded, patrician beauty and her ability to keep her cool under the toughest of situations. Because of these good fortunes, if you could call them that, her five friends were her only five friends. The rest of the school hated her."

A feeble coughing fit expelled from Trina's weak lungs, stopping her mother short. "What was the boarding school called?" her daughter wanted to know, once she finally calmed down and had gotten in a few good swallows of water, courtesy of the glass her mother had raised to her lips.

"Hollywood-Arts Academy. It was one of the most expensive, well renowned schools of its time."

"Who were…the other friends?"

"Jadelyn West had been Trina's best friend since they were in diapers. They grew up on the Upper East Side of New York together, in penthouses just down the street from each other. She was self-explained, 'So plain you could look at her twice and still forget her face.' It wasn't true; of course, she just looked that way in contrast to her breathtaking best friend. Jade was very into sports and very outspoken. It went without saying that people disliked her, simply because she insulted everyone within a five mile radius.

"Caterina Valentine was another, who insisted on always being called Cat, under threat of death. She joined the other two girls in their freshmen year at Hollywood Arts. Cat was disliked because of her eccentricities. Her hair color changed more often than some people change their underwear, and she would come up with the most twisted combinations of outfits to wear. She was a budding photographer, and carried her camera with her everywhere, to catch reaction shots of the splash she always made when jumping into a social pool."

Trina offered a soft chuckle. "So…they were friends because…everyone else hated them?"

"Basically. Tori and Jade had known each other since birth, so of course they were friends. Even back in preschool Jade would declare that everyone was jealous of them when their classmates would refuse to sit with them at juice time. Cat understandably migrated to them, as they were the least likely to reject her. Friendship was forged so fast that Tori, Jade, and Cat all roomed together from their sophomore year on up."

A tired smile settled over Trina's exhausted features. The story seemed to be doing some good, as she appeared to be lulled slowly to sleep. "What about the other three?"

"The other three were boys. Beck Oliver had grown up with Tori and Jade, so they were nearly immune to his good looks and charm. With perfectly cut, smooth brown hair that nearly always feel into stunning brown eyes and a body to absolutely die for, Beck was sometimes accidentally called, 'Adonis,' by their sophomore English teacher, who had a crush on him. Every straight female with eyes had a crush on him. He played it up to his advantage, becoming quite the legendary womanizer by his senior year."

"So…he wasn't hated?"

A bumbling young nurse bustled into the room just then. Her two main concerns seemed to be patting her hair back up into it's messy ponytail and chomping away at her great big wad of sugary pink gum, as she ignored the other two occupants of the room. She squeezed around the mother and began checking Trina's vitals and making little marks on the clipboard clutched in her claw-like, scarlet nails. She blew a huge, bright pink bubble before staring the mother down with accusing eyes. "Dr. Keneg said for her to sleep, ma'am."

"Can't sleep," Trina informed her, opening a brown eye slowly. "Hurts too bad."

"You want to try to, I don't know, do your job and maybe _help her_ by _giving her some medication?_" the mother snapped sharply, a fierce frown shadowing her otherwise pretty face. The crows-feet around her eyes became more pronounced, as did the wrinkles around her mouth from worry. The entire effect was enough to scare anyone.

"Like…not my job, ma'am. I'll let Dr. Keneg know she's hurtin', though." With thus said the frightened nurse all but scurried from the room, snapping her gum as she went in a manner that was even more annoying than her chewing.

Trina gave another cough. "Mother?"

"No, he wasn't hated, sweetie," was the reply she got after a moment's more mumbling of inconsistent treatment and nurses that lacked proper training. "It's funny how boys and girls are different from each other, isn't it? When one girl has something other girls want, the others get jealous of her and hate her for it. But when a boy has something other boys want, the other boys look up to them and think they're cool. I can't explain it, but I blame estrogen. Do you want me to go on?" After Trina's soft laugh and slight nod, she continued, "André Harris had been Beck's best friend since elementary, and he was another who had basically grown up with Tori and Jade, since he joined their first grade class. André's dark good looks went along swimmingly with his sarcastic sense of humor and more often than not, cruel jokes. He and Beck co-captained the football team their senior year, but basketball was his time to shine. He was an absolute sportsoholic, and had a habit of sleeping in his game jersey the night before every game.

"Robert Shapiro completed the group. He came around seventh grade, and though at first he and Beck despised each other, they became friends by the time high school rolled around. With his boyish grin and sweet disposition, he melted the heart of females around him and was regarded by many of them as their best guy friend. He was mistaken for Andy Samberg a record of four times before he reached his senior year. He had a total of seven casual girlfriends his entire high school career up to that year, but no serious ones. It was often rumored that he was gay, but as Jade liked to say, 'He's just a pussy. The only problem is, all girls already have pussies, so the last thing they want is another one.'"

If Trina was taken aback by her mother's crass language or revealing story, she was too weak to show it. She chuckled lightly and exhaled a sigh caught somewhere in between wistful and dreamy. "Sounds perfect…" she murmured in a low voice, her eyelids getting heavier by the second.

"Oh. But it wasn't." It was clear by then that the mother was so captivated by her own tale that she hadn't noticed her daughter dozing off. "They were six best friends. They did everything together. But they also lied, cheated, stole, and ruined each other's lives, and after their senior year, when the shit finally hit the fan…they could barely look each other in the eye. Because while these kids were good at it all, had great grades, incredible sports skills, and gorgeous looks, the one thing they were best at was keeping secrets. They all had secrets. And those secrets would eventually cause everything they had come to know to disappear."

Thick silence swallowed up the tiny room, as she stayed immersed in her thoughts. When Trina gave a little snort, she jumped, snapping out of it, and finally realized that her daughter was asleep.


	2. Chapter One, Reunion

Chapter one: Reunion

Tori Vega was always in a constant state of rush, never stopping nor slowing down until she reached her destination and fulfilled what she wanted. Even when she had no where to go and nothing to do, she was still running around, trying to find the next place she needed to be, the next person she needed to talk to, or the next thing she needed to do. It was as though someone had pressed the fast forward button on the VCR that was her life and the button got stuck. For someone who had a reputation for being beautiful, level-headed, and stuck-up, she did an awful lot of worrying that she was missing something in a place she wasn't at, and she had to find that place and get to it pronto. Her oldest friend Jade often told her to, "Slow down and smell the goddamn roses, they might be covered in thorns, but their beauty is worth it," but more often than not, Tori was too busy hurrying to get somewhere else to even pay attention to her.

That was why it was not unusual for her to be seen scurrying down the cream colored carpet of the corridors of Hollywood Arts Academy, a couple of her favorite monogrammed Louis Vuitton suitcases trailing behind her as she pulled them, the wheels making no noise as they turned quickly. Likewise, the strappy black heels on her size ten feet were silent on the thick carpet as well, and as she passed numerous students milling around the dormitory halls, they didn't even stop to stare at her, unless they were freshmen who weren't used to the greatness that was Tori. They were far too used to seeing her dash around in high heels that she should have stumbled and snapped her neck in years ago, but somehow her grace just didn't allow her to trip and fall. The only students who did stare at her were of the male gender, and one couldn't blame them. The way her sheet of long, shimmering brown hair fanned out from her chiseled face and her deep-set blue eyes sparkled were enough to turn any male with a pulse into a pile of goo. It was curious, however, how Tori never even considered using her incredible looks to catch a boyfriend. Quite the contrary, she never so much as even flirted with any guy at Hollywood Arts as far back as anyone could remember. Perhaps the rumors really were true and she was secretly dating Beck Oliver. But if that was true, his remarkable number of confirmed, notorious infidelities were enough to make any girl with half a brain send him packing, despite how gorgeous he was.

Tori finally came to a halt in front of the gleaming silver doors of the elevator and used a long, French tipped nail to hit the up button impatiently a few times. As she for the cable to pull the cab of the elevator to the first floor, she didn't inspect her appearance in the reflective doors, as every other girl would have. No, Tori had the kind of classic, timeless beauty that didn't need to be checked up on every few minutes. And she was very well aware of this fact. Instead, she glanced at the other students milling around, many of them appearing to be freshmen and looking very confused. She laughed inwardly at their ignorance. She hated freshmen, as she failed to see their, "pathetic, annoying cuteness," as Cat had dubbed it. To her, they were just a bunch of snot-nosed brats who thought they were cool now that they were finally in high school.

Well news flash. They weren't going to think they were cool for long if Tori had anything to say about it.

With a bright _ding_, the doors slid open, and Tori eagerly hauled her suitcases into the elevator. A few of bumbling girls, probably sophomores, followed her, gossiping loudly. They each cast Tori a look—it was hard not to, she was a legend around Fletcher-Gordon—but pretty much remained immersed in their own world, sharing stories of summer flings and parties and hook ups as the doors closed and they began rising into the air.

It was with the gentlest of smirks that Tori pondered just as to what they would say if she were to reveal what _her_ summer fling had been like. She almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of her thought. Puh-lease. Those girls wouldn't know what had hit them, and it would have been all over by dinnertime. No, it was better to simply keep her eyes flicking back and forth between the numbers near the door of the elevator, as she watched the floors fly by quickly, and her Rolex watch, as she tried to determine just how much time she was wasting by standing here, losing IQ points from listening to these girls.

"So then I said to Josh, 'But like, I _so_ saw you kiss her!' And he was all, 'Babe, I love you, I wouldn't do that to you.' It felt completely like that episode of, "Laguna Beach," where like, L.C. finds Jason kissing Jessica, you know?" a very loud, very annoying girl with bleach blond hair was saying to her two friends. She gave her hair an impressive toss and waited for comments, tapping her foot expectantly.

"Oh, totally," friend number one agreed.

"That's like, _the_ perfect metaphor," the second stated, clearly in awe of her friend's brilliance.

Tori snorted, then quickly and successfully passed it off as a cough. Brilliance. Right.

Luckily, as they reached the third floor, the elevator came to a halt and the doors exited, still chatting animatedly and acting like they owned the world. There were two things about the whole situation that pissed Tori off. Number one, _she_ owned the world. Number two, these girls were sophomores. It was an unspoken rule at Hollywood Arts that sophomores had the first floor of the dorms, sophomores the second, juniors the third, and seniors the forth. So what the hell were they doing on the junior floor?

She didn't have to wait long for her answer, as obnoxious girl number one gave a loud squeal of, "_Dave_!" and threw herself on a guy who Tori vaguely remembered as the guy she had accidentally-on-purpose thrown a basketball into the face to he previous year. _He_ was a junior. Ah, so it made sense. Those three were whores-in-training. Lovely.

The doors closed before she could make any more assumptions, and the journey to the next floor was a short one. When she finally reached the fourth floor, a beautiful smile blossomed over her face. She was here. She was _home_. Reaching a hand into her matching Louis Vuitton purse, she searched around for her room key she had retrieved from the office just twenty-one minutes before. A new record. Just as her slender fingers retrieved it, the elevator once again reached its destination and opened its doors. As not to waste any time, she hurriedly snatched her things and exited. Her lovely brown head flew back and forth, examining her surroundings, before heading determinedly to her left. She met no other person on her journey down the long hall, but finally, reached door D19. It would be her home for the next nine months of her life. Sliding the gleaming silver key into the matching lock, she gave it a quick turn, and with a soft, nearly silent, click, the knob turned easily, and she eased the door open.

The room was spacious with cream colored carpet that matched that in the hallway and three windows adorned the longest pale pink painted wall, all looking out to the mountainous Colorado landscape. It smelled of fresh paint and wood polisher, and a huge pile of boxes in the center of the room instantly made her cringe. They were going to have a hard time getting through all that by Monday. Three single beds, all with plain white sheets atop them, littered the room, one immediately to her right and next to the door, another across from it on the opposite wall, and the last next to the closet, it's headboard underneath a window. First come, first serve, as Tori wheeled her suitcases around the end of the bed nearest her and tossed her purse onto the springy mattress. Weaving around boxes, she moved towards the closet door, sliding it open, before poking her head into the adjoining bathroom and flicking on the light. Once she surveyed it for any imperfections, and apparently there were none, she padded across the thick carpet to the middle window. They needed curtains badly, and she made a mental note to send for some as soon as possible. After a moment of wrestling with the latches, she slid the window up easily, and let the fresh, pine-scented breeze blow into the room, a contented smile on her face at the complete silence and serenity of the moment. This was why she always tried to beat her roommates here, for moments like these. Moments of peace where she could immerse herself in her own thoughts. Only problem was that her thoughts always ended up going back to the same thing. Or person, for that matter.

She heaved a huge sigh, her bright blue eyes dimming slightly. Weren't summer flings supposed to be meaningless? Wasn't she supposed to forget all about them and focus on finding a new fling at school? Because she couldn't. She couldn't forget how incredible she had felt the first time she laid eyes on the person she would spend the rest of her summer with. How incredible it felt to kiss them. How amazing it was to hear them whisper, "Te quiero," in her ear. An ache filled her chest, as she fiddled carelessly with her diamond necklace. What was she supposed to do when her friends asked her if she had hooked up with anyone during the summer? She couldn't tell them the truth. They'd hate her. They'd disown her. They'd never talk to her again.

And she couldn't deal with that.

Eventually she moved away from the window and it's breathtaking view and began sorting out boxes. She placed Jade's next to the bed that was opposite hers, and Cat's next to the bed near the closet. It took her exactly thirteen minutes to complete her task, and she felt proud when she surveyed the room, dusting off her hands. Whoever thought she was too stuck-up or stupid to do menial labor obviously didn't know what they were talking about.

With a long, square nail, she carefully slit the tape on the box marked, "Desk things, organization stuff, and papers." It took her a few times to get through the thick packing tape, but in the end, she managed, and laughed a soft, reminiscent smile at the bright yellow paper that lay on top of the stack.

Hollywood Arts Rules

**Written by: Headmaster Coates **_and edited by Jadelyn West, Victoria Vega, and The Cattster._

Every year, the first class of the first day, teachers never failed to pass out the list of mandatory, completely ignored rules. Their sophomore year, Jade had started ranting about how no one followed them, so they should be changed. History was born as Cat grabbed a pen and started marking up the yellow paper, and Tori, the queen of organization, had managed to bribe the student office attendee to laminate it for her. She tacked it up on her bulletin board every year.

**1. Students are required to wear school uniforms during class hours. Casual wear is permitted after hours, as long as it follows the school dress code. For dress code, see Student Handbook, page 48, paragraph 7. **_Translation: you're forced to wear ugly, itchy polyester shit in ugly colors, but on your own time, as long as you're covered by at least one square inch of cloth, they won't do anything about it. Mr. Phillips is the only one who ever busts out the measuring tape to, "make sure outfits are adequate," but we all know he's just doing it to feel us all up, as he's obviously a creepy, underground pervert when he's not teaching math._

2. Students are required to be in their dorm rooms by nine PM every night, no acceptations. The sign out sheet for trips during the weekend is located in the office. Weekend pleasure outings can be executed anywhere between the hours of 8 AM and 8 PM. Students who fail to comply with curfew will be severely punished. _Am I the only one who thinks the whole, 'pleasure,' part is unnecessary and some sort of sexual innuendo? Besides, it's not like they check our rooms to see if we've made curfew, and if you're stupid enough to get caught, that's your fault. I hope that, 'severe punishment,' is a hanging by your toes from a wall with vicious, rabid rats crawling around underneath you. Love, Kitty._

_Kitty, stop messing around. This is serious business._

3. Detentions will be served the day they are given, no acceptations. _Ignore this rule if your name is not Jade West._

4. After the tardy bell rings, students who arrive in class will be counted as tardy. If you reach four tardies, Saturday school is required. _Everyone other than Tori Vega will serve Saturday school at least once._

5. PDA's are punishable by detention, suspension, and even expulsion. Keep it clean, please, for the sake of our fine school's reputation. _Translation: "We're going to lock you in a school with a bunch of gorgeous, hormonally charged boys and expect you not to touch them. If you do, we'll do soak cotton balls in gasoline, glue them to the roof of your mouth, and light them on fire." __Note: Unless your name is Jade West, please disregard this rule._

6. Alcohol, drugs, and narcotics of any type are strictly forbidden at Hollywood Arts under expulsion. _Yeah, right._

7. Please take your schoolwork seriously; it is the beginning to the rest of your life. _Not necessarily. What kind of education does a prostitute meet? I've never met a prostitute who has a master's degree in Science. And what if I want to be a prostitute, damn it? I'm going to be the best damn prostitute this school has ever seen!_

_Lay off the dramatics, Kitty._

8. Please respect your teachers, the buildings, and your peers. _No, no, and double no. What good have my peers ever done for me? These buildings need to be demolished anyway, and they could build like, Saks and Barneys and shit. Teachers? Puh-lease. Gag me._

_Maybe that's why you've been in the principal's office more times than I can count in the past year, Jay._

_You always did suck at math, Cat._

_These rules are copyrighted and deemed property of Caterina Valentine, Jadelyn West, and Victoria Vega. All rights reserved. What rights, you might ask? Wouldn't you like to know?_

_Kitty Koo! Jadey Joo! And Tori Too!_

Tori rolled her eyes at the last line, but laughed all the same. Cat had come up with that little line their sophomore year, and maybe it was funny when they were fifteen, but as she neared her adulthood, Tori found it more and more annoying. Cat was just too immature sometimes, and Jade, of course, as always, just thought it was _hilarious_. Everything Cat did was hilarious to Jade. Tori used to feel the same. But she really didn't anymore.

Digging around in the box, she pulled out her new corkboard and a pack of brass thumbtacks. Extracting one from the plastic container, she pushed it through the hole in the rules sheet and into the cork, right in the middle, where it always resided. Pictures of the six of them would surround it, she knew. They always did. Everything about Tori's life was very orderly, very familiar, very routine, very closely guarded.

Which was also why her summer fling had been so shocking.

Grabbing one of the box's flaps, Tori tugged it towards the massive, cherry wood desk that sat in between two wardrobes. They were placed in between her bed and the bed she had deemed Jade's, the other wardrobe was on the opposite side of the closet door. Atop the desk sat a sleek desktop computer, a little red light on the underside of the cordless mouse glowing slightly. With a light smirk, Tori pushed the monitor back as far as she could without upsetting it, and then pulled out the rolling board the keyboard was placed on. Unplugging it from the monitor, she shoved it underneath the desk. Her laptop would go there nicely instead. From her box, she pulled out all her desk necessities—pens, pencils, paper, notebooks, a dictionary, a thesaurus, folders, and a few random knickknacks that she could not study without. A huge conch shell she found on the beaches of St. Bart's when she was vacationing there with Jade in seventh grade, a miniscule statue of a girl holding a flower, and her most recent addition, a framed photograph of herself hugging a girl that was so beautiful she rivaled even Tori. Long, curling dark hair framed her tanned, oval face, and bright green eyes stood out shockingly. Her thin, equally tanned arms were curled tightly around Tori, and their heads were touching at the temples. Tori stared into her own face. God, she looked happy. Glowing, even. The beautiful little town she had been staying in in Spain showed in the background, including her favorite coffee shop, where she had in fact met Eva. Setting the picture down slowly next to the conch shell, she frowned. She missed Eva. A lot.

The door flew open just then, and in all her prosperity stood Jade West, a short boy appearing to perhaps be a freshman or sophomore trailing after her, pulling a suitcase after him. Tori smiled. It was so like Jade to con a boy into doing her biding.

Upon seeing Tori, the boy stopped short and stared, taken aback by her stunning beauty. Tori didn't even blink. She was far too used to creating this reaction around the male species. Jade, however, apparently wasn't, for she cleared her throat rather loudly and tapped her white and lavender Lacoste sneaker impatiently. Finally, when Random Boy turned to look at her, she flashed him a sweet smile, snatched her suitcase from his hand, and swooped down, kissing him on the cheek.

"Thanks, Roger," she cooed, before stepping into the room and all but shutting the door in his face. Turning to look at Tori, she sniggered. "His name was Robert. I think."

Tori laughed, stood up, and rushed towards Jade, embracing her tightly. The familiar scent of coconuts hit her nose, and she closed her eyes, inhaling the welcome smell. This was familiar. This was routine. This she actually liked. When they finally released each other, Jade took a step back and for the first time Tori took a good look at her friend. Her perfect eyebrows nearly hit her hairline as she surveyed her in disbelief. "Wow."

While Tori was stunningly, classically beautiful, Jade was sultry. She was, as she always replied upon inquiry to her nationality, "Half Polish and half bitch." Her father, a Polish man but had bloodlines running back to Cherokee and Sioux tribes, had married her mother, a coldhearted bitch. So, in short, she was telling the truth. "High-maintenance," was never a word used to describe Jade. Her dark hair was almost constantly pulled back into a messy ponytail she had perfected, unless, of course, she was trying to impress a guy, and then she let it hang loose and free, which brought attention to her big blue eyes that were so mysterious they nearly matched her persona. Her father, a well-known plastic surgeon, has personally fixed the bump in her nose and enhanced her lips with collagen, much to her mother's displeasure. Her curves were God-given, however, and were much more generous in form than Tori's. Tori had always been slightly jealous of Jade's luscious curves, while Jade was jealous of Tori's…well...everything.

As Tori stared at the girl she had called her best friend since the tender age of two, however, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of…something. Something strange. "You look awesome," she acknowledged, trying to keep the bitterness at a low.

Her skin was naturally tanner than most as it was, but having just flown in from a long, luxurious stay at St. Bart's the previous week, Tori looked especially dark and exotic. Her 7 for mankind jeans hugged her curvy hips and filled-out backside perfectly, and to Tori's surprise, didn't make her look the least bit pudgy. While Jade always had curves, they weren't always in the right places. Just the previous year she had what Cat dubbed, "a baby belly," which protruded through clothes if she wasn't careful. Now, however, her Tory Burch white embellished tank hung loosely around her stomach and clung to her breasts tightly.

She looked…well…hot.

And she seemed to know it, as she looped one side of her long, side swept bangs behind her ear, a grin playing over her face. "Thanks, Tiff. Of course, you always upstage me though, and as usual, I'm beyond used to it."

Not true.

She glanced around at her surroundings carelessly, before asking curiously, "You claim a bed?" When Tori pointed to the one that, yes, was hers, Jade immediately headed for the bed opposite of it. She glanced at her stack of neatly piled boxes and offered a, "Thanks," without even specifying what it was for, because she really didn't need to. She laid her suitcase down, and, without further ado, unzipped it and pulled out a neatly wrapped box. She chucked it over her shoulder to Tori, and Tori wasn't surprised when it came directly towards her and she caught it in her perfectly manicured hands. Jade was an absolute athletic pro. There wasn't a single sport she had ever discovered that she didn't love and excel at. The only thing Tori had ever been able to beat her at was running, but that was due to her long, long legs. "Open it," Jade commanded, grabbing out another wrapped parcel. She rested it vacantly on a hip, placing her other hand on the other hip. "Go on."

Tori never did get to do as she was ordered, for at that moment, the door burst open yet again, and in marched Caterina Valentine, all drama and bright colors. Everything Cat did oozed of bright colors and drama. A bright orange duffle bag was slung over one shoulder, and pet carriers in both hands. Her hair was tugged up into two pigtails, and was dyed a brilliant shade of red with two small blonde streaks hanging down in her eyes. Dressed in the most awkward combination of clothes anyone had ever seen, a pair of cutoff yellow and pink polka dotted overalls, a black t-shirt with so many holes it looked as though it would disintegrate any moment, and a pair of actual point ballet slippers, Cat was almost offensive to the eyes. She had twenty/twenty vision, and yet a pair of rimless square glasses was perched on her nose. When her brown, glass-covered eyes locked onto her two roommates, she emitted a high-pitched shriek, dropped everything in her arms, and launched herself across the room at Jade, nearly tackling her onto the bed.

"Jadey Joo_!"_ she exclaimed, hugging Jade tightly to the point where she could hardly breathe.

However, Jade managed a strangled laugh and to force out, "Kitty Koo!"

Before she could comprehend what was happening, Cat's hand shot out and grabbed Tori's forearm, tugging her into to hug. "And Tori Too!" she all but yelled, tightening her grip on her two best friends. "_I've missed you guys so much!"_

A loud meow from one of her pet carriers was the first response she got, carefully followed by a loud scuffling from the other.

They stood there, hugging. Tori's face was contorted into a slight frown of annoyance at Cat's loudness. Jade was smiling serenely, though her mind was somewhere else. On _someone_ else, more precisely. And Cat? She began doing a little Irish jig, and one of her legs came in contact with Tori's knees that just so happened to be locked, causing Tori to fall backwards. Of course, Jade tumbled down after her, and Cat fell somewhere on top of both of them.

Everyone, even Tori, had to crack up as they lay in a tangled mass of hair, limbs, and confusion. "I love you guys," Jade finally got out, clutching her sides from laughter.

For now, anyway.


	3. Summer flings

Chapter Two: Summer Flings

There was one thing and one thing only that Beck Oliver would openly admit to not understanding, and that was history. Why would anyone in their right mind enjoy sitting around and memorizing the date of when some old crackpot invented peanut butter? Or what east India's most profitable export was? Seriously, people who _did_ enjoy that kind of stuff needed to get lives. And quickly.

He was careful never to share this opinion with Jade, however, as she was some sort of self-proclaimed, "history nerd," and would have cussed him out back to the seventeenth century.

Of course, there were other things that Beck Oliver did not understand, though he'd never admit it. Feelings were one of those things. Oh sure, he understood the basic feelings, like how it felt to be hungry after not eating all morning, and was quite familiar with the pain of having a two-hundred pound linebacker crush you into the cold, wet grass, but there were several more complex, deeper feelings that Beck could not, or would not, wrap his gorgeous head around. Love was one of said feelings. Beck knew very little, if anything, about love, and though he admitted it, it was always to himself and never aloud. Sure, he loved his family, but in an I'm-forced-to-so-of-course-I-do way. In his near eighteen years on the planet, Beck was almost ashamed to say that he had never found another person whom he loved more than himself. It was obvious that if Beck _did_ know anything about love, he would have noticed the way that Jade West's big blue eyes lit up every time she saw him, or how she literally glowed whenever he put his arm around her, or, perhaps the most obvious of all, how she had the subconscious habit of pulling her hair out of it's usual ponytail whenever around him for an extended period of time, because in the back of her brain, she knew she looked ten times more attractive with her hair down than up.

And yet Beck failed to notice all those things. Maybe it was because whenever he was talking to Jade one-on-one, his eyes tended to stray away from her face and settle on her chest or behind. Sure, Beck was more partial with using his charms to try to get Tori to fall for him, but whenever he had to pick a second choice, it was Jade. Hey, he appreciated fine art, and to him, Jade's body _was_ fine art. A girl with an ass like that had to be appreciated, or at least that's what he told himself.

Which was perhaps why it was best that he was unaware that she had been completely, totally, one-hundred percent head-over-heels in love with him since freshmen year, because knowing Beck, he would have used it to his complete advantage and conned the poor girl into bed with him.

Not that she would have complained.

With his usual cocky, self-satisfied smile in place, Beck opened the glass door to the lobby of the middle building at Hollywood Art's, which held the classrooms and other basic rooms, such as the kitchen, dining hall, office, and library. The other two buildings were dorms buildings, the east wing and the west wing. He had been fortunate enough to get his own dorm room in the east wing on the senior floor, and had already trudged up there and deposited his bags. He knocked on the room next to him, D09, but apparently Robbie and André were not in there, for no answer had come. The three of them, tired of having roommates and wanting to experience what it was like to live on their own, had applied for separate rooms, but when it turned out that André was going to be in the west wing while the other two guys were in the east, he had immediately agreed to double up with Robbie. Even though André and Beck had been best friends long before Robbie arrived, André had roomed with Beck their sophomore year and had quite enough of his nightly guests.

Thus was why, for one of the few rare moments of his life, Beck swaggered down Hollywood Art's familiar halls by himself, searching avidly, though looking very casual at the same time, for one of his five best friends. He glanced in a faux-careless way at his Lorenz watch and realized with a slight shock that it was nearing the dinner hour. He flashed a flirty wink in the direction of a group of scantily clad junior girls, the majority of which had badly dyed blond hair and long, acrylic nails with the most awkward-looking designs painted on them. One had a tall poesy detailed on each nail. Another had unicorns. Flames, cats, the Playboy bunny, and butterflies were all accounted for as well, and even something that looked oddly like…sugar cubes? A slight chuckle escaped his lips, and, as usual, all the girls around him smiled brightly in return. When Beck Oliver smiled, the world smiled back.

He had the kind of casual sophistication that contrasted perfectly with his arrogant manliness to create the most incredible heartthrob Hollywood Arts had ever seen. Maybe it was the way his soft brown hair was cut to fall so gracefully into his eyes. Or maybe it was those eyes alone, a deep, dreamy shade of chocolate-brown that captivated every straight female who stared into them, and several homosexual males as well. Perhaps it was his body, all tanned and toned and cut from years of athletics and lifting weights. His charming white grin didn't hurt either, nor did his suave manner and smooth voice. Beck had the ability to make people do whatever he wanted, and of course, he abused that right.

The only people he would not manipulate were his closest friends. For the most part, anyway.

"I love those jeans on him," he heard one of the junior girls whisper as he passed by. "Just look at that _ass_!"

"And how cute and understated is that white long-sleeved polo?" another whispered back. They truly were the most terrible whisperers Beck had ever encountered, and he had known Cat for quite some time. "It's like he's saying, 'Hey, I'm Beck Oliver, and I'm a Sex God no matter what I do.' And how true is that?"

"Oh, so true."

"Like, totally, incredibly true. Couldn't have put it better."

Though Beck grinned at their comments, he kept walking. He knew he could always catch up with them later if he felt like having casual sex that night.

Which, more often than not, he did.

The token cream-colored carpet of the hallways slowly faded into hard, glossy oak wood as Beck took a sharp left, nearly plowing over a few anxious-looking freshmen boys. They jumped out of the way at the last second and stared at him as he hustled by, not even caring he had nearly knocked them down. And the last thing they were going to do was inform him of such, as he was _Beck Oliver,_ and no one in their right mind wanted to be on _Beck Oliver's_ bad side.

He continued down the halls, passing various doors and students, stopping briefly to say hi to a few of them and offer smirks to his teachers, most of who frowned in return. Finally he reached his long-awaited destination, and instantly grinned at the sight of it. Two tall, swinging doors with a large red sign next to them that read, "dining hall," stood in front of him, and without hesitation, he pushed one open and stepped into the room.

Heavily polished, round wooden tables were placed randomly around the huge room, tall-backed, crushed-velvet dining chairs situated around them. Beck turned to his right instantly and his grin widened when he spotted his familiar table, way back in the far corner of the room, with five recognizable friends sitting around, laughing and eating.

There was Tori, looking as cool and tanned as ever, daintily chewing on her fruit salad.

Jade sat at her side, taking a long swig of Gatorade that she nearly spat out at Cat's flailing arm movements. Her dark hair was pulled up, as always, and she looked as pale as ever.

Cat's hair was an offensive shade of red, nearly as offensive as her outfit, and contrasted greatly with the vanilla color of her chair from where she was perched, next to Jade. Her half-eaten plate of food was pushed away, and instead, she seemed to be talking so animatedly that it was almost a theatrical performance. Beck grinned as she clutched a hand to her chest, a look of heartbreak over her face. Good old Cat.

With his back to Beck in the chair on Cat's side, slouched down so that his dark hair was barely visible, sat André Harris. He nearly fell over in laughter at Cat's actions, and lifted up a huge hand to run over his black hair, as he did nearly twenty times a day. Tori had counted once.

There was a space, where Beck was undoubtedly to sit, and then there was Robbie, who seemed to be having trouble shoveling large spoonfuls of mashed potatoes in his mouth as he laughed hysterically as well. He looked so much like Andy Samberg that it was still a shock for Beck to see that same wildly curly, brown-black hair, those brown-green eyes, and pug nose.

It was with all the ease in the world that Beck crossed the distance between the doorway and the table. Heads turned as he went, because after all, he was Beck Oliver. He just had that effect on people. The girls thought he was gorgeous, and the guys thought he was a hero. And he loved it. Hey, if people wanted to worship him, why not enjoy it?

It was Jade who spotted him first. The shriek she let out was so piercing and shrill that nearly everyone within a twenty foot radius cringed as she hopped out of her seat and all but ran to Beck, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly, as though she hadn't just seen him the previous month before jetting off to St. Bart's.

Anyone who got so much as a glance at her glowing, excited face and star-struck eyes before she buried her face in Beck's shoulder would have known in an instant.

Jade West was in love with Beck Oliver.

It wasn't something she had wanted to happen. Jade had known Beck before she was even potty-trained, for Christ's sake, and the last thing she wanted to do was ruin such an old, strong friendship. But one fateful day her freshmen year, back before things got so screwy and her head was taken over by love, her boyfriend of ten months, Ralph Clark, had unexpectedly asked her to talk. He explained quite nicely that while he thought she was great, he wasn't sure they could work out anymore. It was natural that little Jade, at the age of fourteen, had secured her first broken heart in the ending of that relationship, though she had pretended to agree so they could end on good, mutual terms. When Jade had left Ralph's dorm room, however, it became quite a different story.

After all, Ralph had been her first real boyfriend. He bought her roses and told her all the right things. He was the first guy she had ever really seriously fooled around with. He was the first guy she had ever fallen _in love_ with, or at least what she thought love was at the time. When Beck had found her, somehow lost between the short seven yard walk back to her own room, she had been in a flood of tears and so embarrassed and appalled at the thought of him seeing her that she had only succeeded in crying harder. In true gentleman fashion, Beck gently tugged her back to his room and let her cry on his shoulder all night until she fell into a physically and emotionally exhausted slumber. When she awoke, she found herself curled up into Beck's frame, sunlight spilling through his drapes, his hair cascading down into his softly fluttering eyes.

It was right then and there that Jade fell for him. Hard.

Securing his arms around her newly sculpted waist, Beck lifted Jade off the wooden floor with ease, twirling her around, her surprised squeal making him laugh. When he finally set her back down, he gave her his patented grin and asked, "How are you, West?"

Adoration glowed in Jade's deep brown irises as she surveyed his strong jaw, full lips, and gorgeous gray eyes that seemed to sparkle with all the mischief and arrogance in the world. Beck was a God, and he knew it. He knew everyone knew it, too, he just didn't know as to what _extent_ Jade knew it. If he knew that her thoughts at the moment were on cupping his face in her hands and pulling him into a long-awaited kiss, he probably would have laughed out loud. But since he didn't know, he couldn't laugh.

"I'm as good as I look," she answered in a much more saucy way than Beck was used to, as she spun around in a showy circle, clearly proud of her improved figure. Jade was almost always saucy, but never to _Beck._ She was far too timid around him when it came to her appearance to really make him try to notice it.

Oh really? What happened?

A slow grin gathered on Beck's face as he gave her a drawn-out once-over, admiring her trim look. "Wow, West."

André twisted around in his chair, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth. "She knows she's hot shit, she just wants the rest of the world to comment on it too. So go on, Beck. Comment."

"Later," Beck promise, making his way around to hug Tori. She stood up rather reluctantly, and gave him a half-hearted, mandatory hug she clearly did not enjoy. As usual, he whispered seductively into her ear how sexy she looked and how he'd just _love_ to get a private showing as to what _she_ had done to herself over the summer.

It might have meant more to her if she wasn't so repulsed by him.

When he moved to hug Cat, she dodged his open arms, and instead, did a quick circle around him and jumped onto his back. He just laughed, as this was classic Cat behavior, and inquired as her tiny hands clamped tightly around his neck, "What are you doing, Kitty?"

"Giving you a hug-from-behind," she explained as though it were the most obvious, logical thing in the world. "God, get with the times, Beck."

After two what Jade called, "man-hugs," with André and Robbie, Beck took his seat, far too happy to see his best friends than to care about eating at the moment. "Talk to me, people," he demanded, propping his elbows onto the table, as eating was resumed all around him. "What's new?"

"I got my Porsche taken away," Robbie offered, mashed potatoes flying into his mouth," Because I crashed it into a mailbox."

André cracked up and demolished the last of his corn on the cob. "Dude, I told you not to drive it when you're wasted. We should have taken my dad's Hummer, because it would have caused a lot more damage."

"Rob and André were bad asses while you were away in Italy," Jade explained, sensing Beck's confusion and being one hundred percent correct. She gave her eyes a mighty roll, and without even realizing what she was doing, reached up and pulled the little red elastic hair tie out of her hair, letting it fall down her back. "They got completely trashed, drove around, and succeeded in murdering one mailbox, three garbage cans, and a small tree."

"The tree didn't count!" Robbie protested, brandishing a spoon at her in a manner that was not all threatening because he was just so _Robbie_. "It wasn't even in the ground yet! And don't call me Rob!"

"I'll call you whatever I damn well please," she shot back after draining her Gatorade bottle. She chucked it directly at his head, and with a mighty _thwack_, it hit its target, the direct center of his forehead. Before he had time to retaliate or respond, she picked up her tray and retreated towards the door that led to the kitchen.

"Coward!" he called after her, laughing lightly, and received a not-so-polite finger salute in response.

Relaxing his hands behind his head, Beck grinned before leaning around Robbie to look at Tori. "What did you do this summer, gorgeous?"

She stared at her long, French-tipped nails for quite a while before answering tonelessly, "Went to Spain."

"And how was that?"

She shrugged her halter-top perfect shoulders. "You know. Same."

"**I **went to England!" Cat announced, stabbing her butter knife down into the thick wood table. It quivered for a moment, and then stood on its point. She grinned, revealing a large sprout of spinach stuck between two of her bottom teeth that everyone failed to point out to her. "Stayed with my aunt, I did. 'Twas lovely."

Jade returned by then, and scooted her chair up close to the table, glancing at her gleaming Rolex. "Quarter past six," she said before anyone could even ask. Turning, she looked at Cat, who was trying to stick her spoon into the table as well. "Cat, number one, you've got a big hunk of green shit in your teeth. Number two, tell me about England. You got my postcard from St. Bart's, right?"

"Oh yeah." Giving up, perhaps due to the ADD Tori often swore she had, Cat tossed her spoon into the air and caught it. "Not much to say. Stayed with my aunt and cousins and corrupted little Molly into piercing her nose and putting pink streaks in her hair. Aunt Susan just about cried. No, she did cry. Several times. They couldn't have been more happy to get rid of me."

André crossed his long arms and laughed. "I saw Delilah a lot. No summer flings for me. What about you guys? Any flingage?"

Beck just grinned his cocky grin that left no doubt in anyone's mind that he had banged so many Italian chicks that he had lost count. Robbie made a face before asking, "What exactly makes a fling a fling? Isn't it like…meaningless hooking up? What if you care about the person?"

It was Beck who answered that, as he was undoubtedly the king of flings. "Dude, if you hook up with a chick you never plan on seeing again or having a romantic relationship with, then yeah, it's a fling. So did you get any ass this summer?"

A blush crossed Robbie's delicate cheekbones as he refused to reply. After a few moments of awkward silence, Tori, desperate for a topic change, leaned forward towards Jade slightly and asked in a voice she hoped held convincing interest, "Tell us about St. Bart's, Jade. You had your own villa, right?"

"Naturally." Jade ran her hands through her thick, straight hair, shaking it off her face, though her longish bangs were uncontrollable and fell across one blue eye. "Daddy sent me there to keep me away from that bitch who calls herself my mother. Of course, that bitch insisted on him sending Danita too, because we all know how much she adores 'Nita. It didn't bother me though, because she's great to party with, so we had a blast."

"How many guys did you hook up with and drink their blood when you were finished?" Cat wanted to know, toying thoughtfully with one of her blonde streaks.

Jade grinned. "Only like…six or seven, Kitty, I swear."

Cat nodded solemnly for a moment before bursting out so loudly that it made everyone jump, "I met a boy in England this summer!"

Everyone stared at her. Finally, André offered, "Cat, no offense, but…boys are scared of you."

"They think you have very limited mental capacities and need to be tied down before you hurt someone," Tori added.

Shaking her head, red pigtails bouncing everywhere, Cat insisted, "This boy was different! He had black dyed hair and wore eye makeup! His name was Austin and he showed me the most beautiful scars on his wrists from where he tore a knife across his skin because no one loved him! He dressed all in black, because he wanted to color-coordinate with his hair, I guess, and listened to really sad music!"

Jade and André exchanged an amused glance, knowing where this was going.

When Cat fell silent, her head bowed slightly, Tori waited only a moment before asking with a note of curiosity in her voice, "What happened, Cat?"

Cat shrugged and adjusted the strap of one of her pink and yellow overalls. "You know what they say about Emo boys. When you dump them, they cry, and then they threaten to kill themselves. I just didn't know Austin was _serious_ about it. I figured out that he was though when I got a call from his mother telling me that Austin was dead. Poor guy. He followed Hitler's take-some-cyanide-and-then-pull-the-trigger way out. Kind of reminds me of, "Whisky Lullaby," to tell you the truth."

Silence followed Cat's little spiel. Finally, Jade cracked up, because she was the kind of bitch who could laugh regardless as to if Cat's story was true _or_ false. André was shortly after, because he too shared Jade's twisted, cruel humor. Eventually, Beck and Robbie joined in, and even Tori gave a giggle or two. Cat, apparently pleased with herself, stood up, gave a sweeping bow, and then snatched up her plate and hurried off to the kitchens.

Beck flashed Tori his to-die-for smile. "What about you, Tor? Did you finally stop being so prude and let a guy pop your cherry this summer?"

Looking highly affronted, Tori swept her long brown hair out of her face and narrowed her eyes at him. "Beck Oliver, you have no right to talk to me that way and I demand that you apologize now."

He held up his hands in his defense, and opened his mouth to say something else, but at that moment, André's girlfriend of a year, two months, three weeks, and six days (André counted religiously) plopped down into André's lap and placed a kiss on his lips. Once he secured his arms around her petite waist, she swiveled around and offered a smile that could not have been more obviously fake at the rest of them. "Hi."

Delilah Rhodes was good at two things. One was hating Cat, Tori, and Jade so severely it was startling. The other was making André see her on a pedestal as the perfect girlfriend, when she couldn't have been any farther from it. Her pixie cut, copper hair framed her delicate face, the face of an innocent girl, complete with wide blue eyes and pouting cherry lips.

Jade had it in good confidence that her chin reduced and her nose had been shaped by the great Dr. West, though she was careful not to mention this when André was within earshot. While Jade could cuss someone out to an inch of their life, the one person she did not want to fight with was André, because while she was cruel, he was cruel _and_ ruthless if you pissed him off enough. And anything that involved shining a bad light on Delilah would definitely piss him off.

André's whole world revolved around Delilah. He ate, breathed, and slept solely for her presence in his life. It soothed him greatly to know that she was such a sweetheart and would never do _anything_ to hurt him, as she promised on a daily basis.

Right.

In a way that seemed almost unwilling, Delilah's eyes strayed over to Beck, who looked very relaxed and as he sat there languidly, looking as sexy and poised as ever. He glanced at her for a moment, and they locked eyes only for a split-second before both hurriedly looked away, eyes purposely darting to opposite directions.

Luckily, no one noticed, as they were all far too caught up in their own shitty lives to care.


	4. Chapter 3, First Day Woes

"Beck Oliver!" roared a tall man, probably in his mid-sixties, who bore an eerie resemblance to Colonel Sanders, the founder of Kentucky Fried Chicken, for those of you who are fortunate enough to not know such information.

Beck visibly jumped and stuffed his cell phone underneath his desk. "Mr. Lively, sir?" It was a voice of complete innocence. Phony innocence. Which, luckily, Mr. Lively was smart enough to notice.

His shiny black shoes paced across the hard wood floor, leaving hollow echoing noises in his wake. When he reached the small desk Beck was crammed into, he rested his large, wrinkles hands onto the top and leaned in close, examining Beck thoroughly. "Mr. Oliver, are we going to have to have another year of this nonsense? Where I attempt to teach you and you sit here and grope yourself?"

The students who had listened to the exchange burst into laughter at Mr. Lively's dry sense of humor. He was the kind of teacher you could either love or hate; there was nothing in between. He teased and he joked, but he had a habit of going too far sometimes, and had a reputation for reducing more than one student to tears. Normally, Beck would have found at least slight amusement in Mr. Lively's personality, but there was one main reason why he could not.

Mr. Lively taught World History. Beck hated history almost as much as he hated black olives, and that was a lot, seeing as to how he threw up violently for days on end after eating just one.

"I hate this class," was Beck's flat, predictable answer. He brushed his hair carelessly out of his deep brown eyes, looking so aloof that Jade, across the room, winced. Mr. Lively was going to rip him a new one, she knew it.

"And I hate you, but beggars can't be choosers." Mr. Lively sneered into Beck's face for a moment, before turning around and walking slowly back up towards the blackboard, unaware to Beck flipping off his back. "I've held this job thirty-two years, and I've never had a student who didn't, at least by graduation, admit to having _some _interest in _something_ I've mentioned in this class, and Mr. Oliver, I will not let you be the first."

Beck grumbled something incoherent and undoubtedly rude as he fiddled angrily with the collar of his white polo tee, the required uniform for boys in the fall and summer. The girls wore a more feminine version of the same tee, but while the boys donned black slacks, the girls were stuck with skirts in a horrendous shade of gray, white, and navy plaid. More often than not, André's laughter could be heard ringing up and down the hallways on the first day of school as he once again remembered how stupid the girls looked.

Picking up a piece of chalk, Mr. Lively wrote down _1100 A.D. _on the smooth black board. He prided himself on being the last, "old school," teacher at Fletcher-Gordon, and for having the last chalkboard whilst everyone else had switched to dry-erase boards long ago. "So." Folding his arms over his chest, Mr. Lively looked especially impressive, every bit the Vietnam veteran he was. "Someone tell me something that happened in 1100 A.D."

It was to no one's surprise that Jade's was the first—and only, for that matter—hand in the air. Mr. Lively smiled under his bushy white mustache. While most teachers disliked Jade quite strongly for her sharp tongue and offensive brashness, Mr. Lively found it entertaining, and she had quickly become one of his favorite pupils. That and because she was the only one who gave a damn about history, of course. "Yes, Miss West?"

"The Aztecs left their homeland in search of a new home," she recited quickly, pushing her bangs behind one ear. Scuffing a very classic, and very lame, patent leather Mary Jane shoe that was also part of the uniform across the floor, Jade quickly penciled it into her World History notebook in her loopy scrawl. She never did have the best handwriting, but when she got excited, as she often did when discussing history, she wrote even faster, and the result was often a big, smudged mess.

"Excellent," Mr. Lively praised, too copying the information onto the board. When he looked up, he sighed. Other than Jade, no one was taking notes. Beck had his cell back out, as did a massive number of other people, Robbie included. André was taking turns whispering sweet things with Delilah. Tori was filing her nails carefully. Cat's face was one that was screwed up into one of completely concentration, as she tried to braid her hair into two neat plaits. A few guys in the back were playing poker. A couple girls were gossiping as they touched up heir makeup. One girl even had the audacity to paint her nails right then and there. "Hey. Is this study hall or World History?" he demanded, dropping the chalk back into the bin.

"Study hall is more fun than this," Beck replied, eyes trained on his cell phone's tiny screen.

It was with speed and agility that were surprising for a man of his age that Mr. Lively stalked across the room and snatched Beck's phone. Before Beck could even protest, the teacher stuffed it into his pants pocket and returned to the front of the classroom. "Mr. Oliver, I don't understand why you hate history so much, but perhaps you could take a cue from your good friend Miss West here and actually _pay attention_ so you can pass and not give me the immense pleasure of failing your sorry ass."

Jade smirked at Beck, who made a face before returning the smirk.

"Actually, Miss West, since you and Mr. Oliver are such _good_ friends, perhaps you'd like the honor of tutoring him?"

Jade froze mid-sticking her tongue out at Beck. Her head snapped back towards Mr. Lively and her big blue eyes widened even more. "What?"

The old man shrugged. "Extra credit."

"I get an A in here anyway, thanks."

This seemed to stump him, but only momentarily. "I'll write that recommendation letter to Harvard you wanted, and be sure to include what a big _help_you are and how _studious_ and how your giving up your free time to help some _poor, mentally challenged_ boy with his homework."

That sounded good to Jade. An ace recommendation was vital to getting accepted into Harvard early, especially after nearly failing out of Chemistry the previous year. She had managed to pull her grade up to a C and had quite good SAT scores, but…a recommendation from Lively could only sweeten her chances.

That and seeing Beck, of course.

She turned to look at Beck again, who was staring at her in horror. She could only imagine the pleas and threats and promises that were going through his head right now, hoping, wishing, praying she'd say no. Instead, a smile curled over her face, and she tucked her hair behind her ears again. "I'd love to, Mr. Lively."

Throwing her petite body onto her bed, Cat heaved a long, exhausted sigh. It wasn't often that Caterina Valentine put her mind to something and actually followed through with it, because she had, as André often put it, the attention span of a bar of soap. However, after an _excruciating_ day of classes, she had managed to return to the dorm room and unpack _all _her boxes. Naturally, Tori had already done hers over the weekend, and Jade was only half way through, but Cat was proud of herself. This was a big feat to have accomplished.

A loud, complaining meow sounded suddenly, and apologizing profusely, Cat jumped back up from her lime green and hot pink comforter that smelled warmly of her house back in New Jersey, rushing into the bathroom. On the clean white tiles sat a pet carrier, complete with a small blue litter box inside, and one angry, gray cat.

"I'm so sorry, Princess baby pudding pie," Cat cooed, undoing the latch and letting her cat out. Princess, a gray tabby, ran away, the bell on her pink collar that bore her name jingling. Cat watched out the door as Princess ran immediately under Jade's bed, her skinny tail disappearing right after her as she wedged herself into the tiny space.

On top of the pet carrier sat a note, written on a piece of ripped notebook paper and taped down by one of Tori's coveted smiley-face stickers. Cat snatched it up and read it quickly, a frown settling over her face as she adjusted her useless glasses.

_Kitty,_

_It was either this or that cat was going to be my next scarf. I figured this was less messy. Keep that bitch away from my pillow, there's cat hair all over it. I'm in the gym._

_X Jade_

Shaking her head, Cat crumpled the note up and dropped it into the waste can next to the toilet. She glanced uncaringly at her reflection, gave her still-damp red and blonde locks a tousle, and then walked back into the bedroom. On top of her dresser perched a large wire cage holding a ferret affectionate named Jackass. For the most part, Cat just called him plain Jack. She swore he was secretly married to Princess, her spoiled cat, but Tori informed her that if Jack were to get out of his cage, Princess would undoubtedly kill him and then possibly eat him. That and that alone was the only thing that stopped Cat from introducing husband to wife.

She watched Jack scurry around for a while, before growing restless and wandering over to the desktop computer curiously. Her own laptop had crashed the previous year, and her parents refused to buy her a new one, so she figured she'd be stuck being a loser and using the distributed computer, no matter how socially retarded that made her. She was pretty much a social leper anyway, and she liked it that way.

The desk was unofficially claimed as Tori's, with all Tori's stuff all over it. Cat was more apt to doing her homework on her bed, and Jade preferred the library, so it was natural that the desk was Tori's, as she was the only one who really cared about being organized anyway. Even her _sock _drawer was neat, all the way down to tights going in one place, knee socks in another, and ankle socks in yet another. And they were all _color coordinated_. Cat didn't even own enough pairs of socks to be able to do that! Pulling her glasses off the bridge of her nose, Cat shoved them into her hair instead, much like she would sunglasses, and began inspecting the computer closely, wondering just as to how you turned this beast on. She was just about give up when she spotted the keyboard, all alone underneath the desk, it's cord wrapped around it. Picking it up, she plugged it back into the computer and set it on her lap. A little button that looked suspiciously like the power button on her old laptop she had named Rico sat directly above the F10 button, so she pressed a bright orange nail onto it. A loud noise boomed out of the speakers, causing Cat to laugh more than anything and clap her hands over her ears, where one long, dangly feathered earring hung, and in the other ear a huge gold hoop.

Princess wiggled her way out from under Jade's way and padded over to Cat, rubbing her body against Cat's purple crown-pattered baggy sweatpants. Cat wrapped the matching jacket tighter around herself as she bent down to stroke Princess' head briefly, cursing Tori's insistence that the air conditioner run constantly to, "purify the air."

Once she finally got the computer up and running, she logged into her e-mail account quickly, and was shocked to see a little envelope with her mother's e-mail address next to it. Since when did her mother e-mail _her_?

_Caterina,_

_Your father is still being investigated, and I have recently been questioned myself, though it is nothing serious. I am sure he will get off very soon and we will be able to purchase you whatever else you may need for school. Thank you for taking this so well._

_Best wishes,_

_Mother_

Ah. So that was it. Cat swallowed hard; trying to dislodge the mighty lump that had suddenly found it's way into her throat. Blinking back tears, she nearly fell out of the chair as a loud knock sounded on the door. She quickly minimized the window and gave her eyes a hasty wipe before situating her clothes and moving towards the door. She swung it open forcefully, finding herself face-to-face with a beaming Robbie.

"Hey dude," she offered in her best surfer voice, disentangling her glasses from her hair and settling them back onto her nose. "How goes it?"

"Much better after I show you what's in my pocket of mystery," was his answer as he stepped past her and into the room. He dropped down onto her bed, and with a wicked grin, produced five plastic driver's licenses. "Despite the fact that you are still the meager age of seventeen, Caterina, I am still offering you a chance to get into The Rusty Rooster, that hot new club downtown. I'm sure you passed it on your way here. I called up my guy down at the DMV and for a small fee, he was able to produce five of these babies, seeing as how I'm already eighteen."

Cat snatched one of the licenses from him, staring down at the grinning face of Beck. "Even the _pictures_ are flawless!" she declared, running a hand over the gleaming plastic. "_How_ did you manage this, Robert? _And don't call me that wretched name!_ This is _incredible!"_

Robbie just grinned, though it faltered a bit at hearing the name _he_ hated. "Then don't call me Robert. It's just like every year, though a bit more expensive than usual, since these are so perfectly crafted they're almost _better_ than legit licenses."

"You started it. Wow, Shapiro, you are a genius, I swear."

"You started it first by being a bitch. And thank you, Valentine, I appreciate hearing that."

Still in awe over Robbie's ingenious plan, Cat handed him back Beck's fake ID and twisted her hair back into a ponytail. She grabbed up one of Jade's ponytail holders that were strewn all over the place—undoubtedly the work of Princess—and secured her hair messily. "How big was this small fee?"

Robbie didn't miss the small frown that had furrowed its way between her blond eyebrows. "It's not like you have to worry about money anyway, Cat. But they're a gift to my underage friends." He shrugged his shoulder carelessly, stretching out his lanky body to cover her bed, his feet just hanging off the edge. "Use it well, okay?"

The bright smile that had previous just been on Cat's face reappeared in an instant. She curled her arms around Robbie's left leg in a quick hug, and then lifted his black t-shirt to kiss his stomach. As always, he cracked up when she did so, and asked his usual question.

"Cat, why don't you just hug people around the neck and kiss them on the cheek like most people do?"

Cat crossed her eyes at him and transformed her smile into the goofiest of her grins. "Be_cause_, Robert, this makes things interesting."

"Don't call me Robert!"

"Don't be an asshole!'

"I'm not—"

It was precisely around that time that Cat snatched up the first thing she could—strangely enough, it was her gold sequenced pencil pouch—and attacked Robbie. Jumping on top of him, she began thwacking him with it in every possible place—the head, the face, the chest, the arms, the ears, the legs, the torso, everywhere. Robbie was laughing too hard to do much at first, but eventually, he grabbed her by the wrists and easily overpowered her, outweighing her by a good seventy pounds. She struggled nonetheless though, in true Cat fashion, but finally, panting hard and laughing even harder, she gave in and collapsed next to him, her hair a disheveled mess and her glasses hanging crookedly from one ear.

"I hate you, Shapiro."

"I love you too, Valentine."

A contented silence settled over the chilly air, as the two of them lay in Cat's bed, cramped but not uncomfortable, close but not awkwardly so, able to retain perfect silence in a way only two very good friends can do, as they watched Princess scurry around the room uncertainly, still wary of her new surroundings. Finally, after what could have been any time between five minutes to an hour later (Jade possessed the wall clock, and she still hadn't unpacked it) Cat asked curiously, "Robbie, why don't you have a girlfriend? I mean, you're like the nicest guy _ever_, and every girl I know would date you. What's up?"

Robbie was too taken aback by the serious tone of Cat's voice to really register her question at first, but once he did, he immediately blushed and sat up. It was out of sheer luck and coincidence that his cell phone began ringing a moment later, and he gratefully tugged it out of his pocket. Cat sat up also, and got a glance at the tiny name flashing across the screen. _Dr. Fredrickson_. Why on earth was a doctor calling _Robbie_?

"Robb—"

Obviously flustered, Robbie cut her off by tossing the fake ID's at her. "I-I have to take this. Give those to the others, okay? See ya, Cat." And then in a flash of black and blue, he was gone, out the door in what had to be two seconds flat.

Cat stared after him, confused, and then down at the fake ID's, before back at the door that he had just slammed shut. What the hell? But, as usual, she shrugged it off. Getting up off her bed, she cart wheeled across the room to Tori's desk and shut down the computer, her desire to check the rest of her e-mail completely depleted. Opening the right-hand drawer of the desk, she grinned as a thick black Sharpie caught her eye. She skipped back to her bed, plopped down, and uncapped the fuming marker hastily. Bending over, a heavy mass of blue hair fell down into her face as she carefully began work on giving André's picture a Hitler mustache.

The volleyball sailed through the air, over the high net, right towards the ground a few feet in front of Jade West. "Mine!" hollered said girl, diving for the hastily falling ball. She cupped her hands in perfect form and just in time, managed to fall on her knees and bump the ball into the air.

"Mine!" cried Cat in return, setting the ball up into the air towards a tall brunette junior named Sam Winters who was every bit as stuck-up as her pointed nose suggested. Cat's set was perfectly executed, and Sam was supposed to be their, "best," spiker, according to the coach, anyway, but it was with the clumsiness of an oaf that she completely missed her target and fell into the mesh net, doing a face plant that was so painful-looking and flawless that Jade would have cracked up. _If_ that bitch hadn't been on her team.

"_Winters_!" Jade roared as the opposing practice team, or team B, as they were referred to, cheered loudly, the scoreboard adding another point to their side, equaling seven to four in team A's favor. "_What the hell are you doing out here if you can't play worth shit?!"_

Sam shot her a withering look that didn't even cause Jade to flinch. "Well sorr-_ee_ for not being perfect, but we can't all be fat whores like you, West."

"Girls!" That was the strict, demanding voice of their coach. Though Coach Peterson was blond and slim, she had a severe face that rarely allowed her to smile, constantly cold blue eyes, and had a habit of barking out everything she said, regardless as to the situation. "That's enough! Winters, focus. West, focus too, on your _own_ game."

Sam cast a satisfied smirk over her shoulder to Jade, who mouthed a few impolite words in return, but crouched down in ready position as she saw the opposing team ready for their serve.

_Bam!_

The white volleyball contrasted strongly with the beige of the ceiling, as every eye in the gymnasium watched it soared towards team A. "I got it!" Jade called, darting to the left and bumping it towards Cat easily, who was without a doubt the only half-decent setter on the team.

"Mine!" Cat shouted, setting the ball in her truly perfect way, right towards where Sam stood, examining the way her white ankle socks looked with her black tennis shoes and wondering as to if she was making a faux pas.

It didn't take a genius to realize that she wasn't going to get the ball over her net if her life depended on it.

"Damn it, Winters!" Jade swore, shooting from her back position to the front and spiking the ball over the net with surprising strength and ease for a girl her height. Cat laughed out loud as it slammed down to the wooden floor, team B too taken aback to even make a go at returning it.

"Jay's kicking ass," Beck noted, shaking his wet hair out of his sparkling eyes as he stood in the doorway of the gym, leaning up against a gray-painted pole. He was sore from having just finished the first and probably toughest football practice of the season, but had showered at record speed so he could catch the end of the volleyball practice.

Anything that involved girls prancing around in tiny shorts and getting all sweaty definitely interested him.

He was doing better than Robbie, who was sprawled out on the gym floor near the door in sheer exhaustion, unable to move. "My entire body hurts," he groaned, rubbing the already forming purple-ish bruise on his forearm. "Ouch."

André was still standing, and was composing a sweet text message to Delilah, asking her to come to his dorm room after she got done with practice because he missed her. "Dude, shut up. You barely even did shit."

"Hey, I did just as much as you!" Robbie insisted defensively, looking mightily insulted. "What are you talking about?"

"You're offense. All you do is run the ball and bullshit like that while I'm out there trying to defend the line from assholes like you."

Perhaps Robbie was too fatigued to answer, or maybe he couldn't think up a plausible response for that, as he slumped his head back down to the hard floor and groaned again. "Ow."

"_Winters, either get your head in the game or get your ass off the court!" _Jade's voice, shrill with frustration, echoed throughout the gym, and that was enough for André and Beck both to focus again on the practice. Robbie didn't quite understand why the both of them enjoyed watching Jade cuss people out like they did, since, as he put it, she did it about fifty times a day, so it wasn't exactly a rarity. But it was just something the two of them did because it was so classically Jade. She could slim down and suddenly become the queen of seduction—which, according to the way some of the football guys had been talking, she was—but she would still always be good old Jumping Jade who ate people's egos for lunch.

"Coach!" Sam Winters wailed, clearly distressed. "Make her stop!"

Jade faced her squarely, hands on her hips, eyes narrowed, face set into a hard look of hatred. "Winters, you don't give a damn about the game. I suggest you get off my court before I personally see to it that the next time you enter it, it's in a wheelchair."

"_Your_ court? Bitch, this isn't—"

It was Coach Peterson who interrupted her this time, a rare bit of a smile crossing her thin face. "Actually, Sam, I was going to announce it after practice, but I might as well say it now, as it seems fitting. West's the new senior captain. I just told her this morning."

The proud smirk on Jade's face was not one that could easily be ignored, as Cat gave a loud whoop and quickly double high-fived her friend. In doing so, her baggy red plaid shorts almost fell down, but she hitched them up quickly and retied the strings before pulling her green and blue tie-dyed shirt down. With the big white bow she had tied to her ponytail, she looked like a Christmas present gone wrong.

Sam's mouth dropped open, and for once, she appeared at a loss for words. "But—"

"I don't appreciate attitude, Winters. I think a few laps around the gym could help you out immensely." Jade's smirk widened as she tapped her chin thoughtfully with a short, square clipped nail. "I'm thinking…sixteen laps, one for each horrendous year you've been on this planet to fuck up people's lives."

"Coach!" was all Sam could get out before Coach Peterson did in fact frown at Jade.

"West…don't cuss at your players. And Winters, you heard the captain. Get running. Wells, you're in for Winters."

"You could fry an egg on that girl's face," André noted as Sam Winter's face reddened deeply at the injustice of it all. "Not that you'd want to eat it, mind you, because I'm sure she has mouth herpes after all the head she's been giving out."

"How would you know, André?" Beck wanted to know with a grin that could only be described as perverted.

André socked him in the arm, soft enough to be playful but hard enough to hurt. "Dude, everyone knows. Keep an eye on your third leg, I know you've hooked up with her at least once, and I'd hate for you to end up contracting STD's over a worthless piece of shit like _that_."

"_I said get your skanky ass off my court!" _Jade shrieked, tugging the white t-shirt she was wearing off her torso and after giving her sweaty forehead a quick sponging with it, tossing it into a pile of already discarded tees that belongs to some of the other girls. She tightened her ponytail severely as she and Sam had a stare down, but eventually, everyone drew a collective sigh as Sam's shoulders slumped, her head dropped down to her chest, and slowly began jogging around the edge of the court. "Faster!" Jade snapped, bending down to pick up the volleyball that team B rolled over to her, but keeping her eyes trained on Sam all the time.

André watched, interested, as Jade got ready to serve, dribbling the padded ball a few times, twirling it around in her hands, and then dribbling it more. She was clad in only a pair of tiny, skin-tight black Lycra shorts and a white sports bra, which was what prompted him to bring up possibly one of the most awkward conversations in history. "Uh…guys?"

Robbie merely grunted in response, but Beck, too transfixed at staring at Jade's ass, didn't make any movement at all.

"Dudes, did you hear what the guys were saying in the locker room about Jay? Her…improved figure…isn't going unnoticed." André shifted his long legs awkwardly, waiting for a reply, but when one didn't come, he continued, "They were getting pretty nasty about it until Colby finally ended up decking James right in the face."

Beck obviously got very little out of what André had said. Even saying he caught every third word was a stretch. "I hate Colby."

"We know. We all do, except for Jade, but…guys, James was being a real asshole about it. You aren't the least bit worried about her?"

It was with a stiff shrug, as it was near impossible to shrug while your shoulder blades were digging into wooden boards, that Robbie answered, "Her life."

"True," Beck agreed, pushing his hair away from his face. He tore his eyes away from Jade, who was darting around, trying to make up for her team's lacking vigor, and locked eyes with André. "I can't completely hate them for wanting her. Dude, she's hot this year. If she wasn't West, I'd want to hit that too."

An unwelcome shiver coursed through André's body. "Beck, never say that again. Ever."

It wasn't for the first time that Beck's charming, handsome grin saved him face, completely making it seem like he hadn't just admitted that he would like to screw the girl he had known since he was roughly three years old and had basically seen grow up. "Hey, you asked." He was about to add more, but at that moment, Tori appeared behind André's shoulder, and, as usual, Beck's mind immediately dropped the image of Jade and was quickly replaced of that of Tori. "Hey, Tor!"

She rolled her light blue eyes obviously, so not impressed with his sex appeal or charm or whatever it was everyone seemed to think he possessed. Instead of even bothering to reply, she placed her hand on André's shoulder and inquired sweetly, "André, you wouldn't happen to know where Ms. Makey is, would you? I saw you talking to her not too long ago, so I wondered if you knew where she went."

André grinned in return. "Said something about the office, Tor. Check there, but make sure that Chester doesn't see you, because he'll strike up a conversation and never let you leave. I had to finally end up yelling at that poor office attendee nerd before he'd leave me alone. He just won't—"

Cut off by shrill ring tones coming from Tori's Fendi purse, she flashed an apologetic smile towards him, then glared at the suggestive look Beck was giving her, before fishing her phone out. A wide, beautiful smile spread over her gorgeous face as she surveyed the caller ID. Pulling up the antenna, she flipped her phone open and crowed, "_Hola, mi amor!"_

It was undoubtedly lucky that none of the three guys remember their sophomore year of Spanish, or they would have realized that she had just said, "Hello, my love."

Without even so much as another glance at her friends, Tori walked away, presumably back towards her dorm, her lovely laugh trailing behind her as she chattered away fluently in Spanish. Her plans of finding Ms. Makey had apparently vanished.

Beck rubbed his temples in confusion, but didn't voice the clear expression that had settled over his face. Instead, he avoided André's gaze and turned to look back into the gym. Jade was still dominating her team, as always, and looked fantastic doing so. Cat was setting everything to Jade now, and the other members of team A had pretty much been reduced to standing there, picking at their hair or nails, not that they were complaining, of course.

"Excellent, West!" Coach Peterson barked as Jade served her second ace in a row. "Team A, great hustle today! Hit the showers!" She turned back towards the bleachers, narrowly avoiding running into Sam Winters, who was still jogging around the gym, huffing and puffing loudly by now and scowling at everything that moved or had a possibility of moving in the near future, especially Jade. "Team C! Get out here and show Team B how it's done!"

Jade and Cat gathered their things, laughing loudly all the while, as numerous high-gives were exchanged among the two, as well as several self-congratulations as to how great of a team they were together. "Jadey Joo and Kitty Koo _forever_!" Cat sang out in a high-pitched, off-key voice that echoed throughout the gym before the two girls, cackling, ducked into the locker rooms.

Yeah, right.


End file.
